


Laying Hands

by Magnetism_bind



Category: 3:10 to Yuma (2007), Inception (2010), Quick and the Dead (1995)
Genre: Bank Robbery, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Double Penetration, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 21:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Wade needs a hostage. Robert Fischer has the misfortune of being in the middle of a bank robbery. Cort thinks this will probably all go wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laying Hands

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This is the sort of thing that grows out of me trying to choose between Ben Wade and Cort, only to realize I CAN'T. 
> 
> 2\. I made Ben and Cort distant cousins to explain the facial similarity. Look, I had to explain it somehow in my brain. If you don't like the thought of two Russell Crowe characters making out, this fic is not for you.
> 
> 3\. Ben calls Cort "coz" which is a Shakespearean term for cousin. He seemed like the type to do so.

It was supposed to be a simple bank job, and yet somehow he’s wound up with a hostage. Wade casts a glance at the limp figure slung over the back of his saddle.

Damn it all, what’s he supposed to do with the man now?

Wade supposes he’ll come up with something in good time. He clicks his tongue at his horse and rides on.

 *  *  *

Cort pushes back the curtains of the cabin, relieved when he sees Ben’s horse coming up the trail. He’d been on the verge of beginning to worry. It’s never smart doing a job alone, but the rest of the gang is in Mexico already and Ben was getting restless, doing nothing but staying up at the cabin. As for himself, Cort likes the peace and quiet of the place. It’s a nice change from their usual pace.

He frowns when he sees the figure tied over the back of Wade’s horse. What the hell has Wade done now?

*  *  *

He marches out of the cabin, face grim. “Who’s that and why the hell is he here?”

“Situation got a bit messy.” Wade swings down from his horse. “I needed a way out.” He reaches for the unconscious figure, head covered with a sack he’d had in his saddlebag. Couldn’t have the kid knowing his hideaway now, could he?

“So why bring him back here? Why not leave him along the way?”

“Leverage, my dear coz, leverage.” Wade slings the man over his shoulder and carries him into the house, the money backs in his other hand.

Cort follows. “So who he is?”

“Robert Fischer, son of the illustrious Maurice Fischer, head of the bank.”

Cort stops dead, staring at him. “You _kidnapped_ the son of the bank owner. Christ, Wade, are you out of your mind?”

“Some have considered that to be the case.” Wade lays the young man down on the cot in the corner of the cabin. His hands are tied behind his back, his breathing faint, but stable. Wade recalls the look of shock in the young man’s eyes when he grabbed his arm in the bank, pressed his gun to Fischer’s temple.

No one had dared stop him and he’d walked right out of there, easy as pie.

And now, now, he has this to deal with. Wade gazes down at him thoughtfully.

Robert Fischer is a slim-hipped, piece of Eastern ass and he probably shouldn’t touch him. But Wade’s always been drawn to the things society insists he can’t have. What’s one more along the way? He pulls the burlap sack off slowly, revealing the handsome cheekbones, good jawline and those frail eyelashes.

Beneath that though, are those eyes, closed now, but jesus when they’re looking at you. Blue as heaven. _Not green, alas_ , Wade laments that for a moment, _but still damn good_.

“Now what?” Cort won’t let it go. “Huh? What are we going to do with him now?”

“We’ll keep him a few days, and then we’ll turn him loose when we head to Mexcio.” Wade slaps Cort playfully on the cheek. “Stop worrying. What’s to eat?”

“There’s beans on the stove.” Cort’s still eying the captive.

“Any coffee?”

“I’ll make some more.” The cabin’s well stocked at least. That’s something. Damn Wade. Cort was enjoying the peace and quiet, and Wade had to go do something fool like this. He casts an uneasy eye at the figure on the bed. Maybe this will all go smoothly for once. Wade’s careful, he’s good with plans. Maybe this doesn’t have to go poorly.

Cort can only hope.

Wade hangs up his hat and his gun belt. The coffee’s boiling and Cort pours two mugs. Wade accepts one, sitting down at the table with a plate of beans. Cort’s too agitated to eat. He drinks his coffee, waiting for Wade to say something.

The man on the bed groans and they both look over at him. Wade wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and pushes his chair back.

He goes over to the bed, gazing down upon Robert Fischer as he wakes.

 *  *  *

Fischer blinks, returning slowly to consciousness.  The man he had seen earlier in the bank is standing over him, studying him like he’s cow being loaded onto a train for the slaughterhouse.

He moves, and tenses as he realizes his hands are tied behind him. “What the hell, where am?” He glares up at his captor. “Untie me immediately.”

Wade grins. “Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll think about it.” It’s a lie, but Fischer doesn’t need to know that. He can think of several ways he’d like Fischer to ask.

Cort frowns at him, but Wade ignores it. There’s no reason they can’t have a little fun with the man while he’s here. There’s shit else to do up at the cabin anyway. Ben concedes that there’s the slight possibility that maybe he grabbed the pretty hostage simply to liven things up, but the truth of the matter is Fischer was just plain handy. He’d been standing in near the door, going over an account, not paying any attention to anything around him. It had been the easiest thing in the world to go up and grab him.

He’d knocked out easy too as soon as Wade had got him outside, one quick tap of the pistol butt to the side of his head and he was out like a light. Now though, now he’s awake and indignant as hell.

Fischer gazes up at him without fear, and that takes serious balls. Wade can't remember the last time someone outside his gang looked at him like that. It hits him in his groin; he wants to scratch that itch, wants Fischer to scratch it. Those eyes of his, _damn_. They're just about the prettiest thing Ben Wade has ever seen, west of the Pecos.

"What am I doing here?" Fischer demands, and Wade just chuckles low in his throat. He's so fucking haughty, it's adorable.

"Wrong place, wrong time." He drawls, going back to pour himself more coffee before returning to his chair.

"That doesn't explain why I'm here." Fischer says coldly. He pushes himself up on one elbow, eying Cort on the other side of the cabin. "Who's he?"

"That my illustrious friend, is my young cousin, and he doesn't like you being here anymore than you do."

Wade sits back in his chair still watching him, and for the first time since he woke, Fischer realizes he might actually be in danger here.

He swallows dryly; Wade tracks the movement. "So ransom then, that’s the goal?"

"Now see," Wade grins at him. "I knew you were smart."

“Smarter than you," Fischer says coolly.

Cort bursts out laughing at that. The look on Ben's face is just priceless. Wade glares at him, then at the hostage, "Is that right?"

"Send me back to town. You'll get your money."

"Sure I will," Wade's gaze slides down the length of him lying on the cot. "Or maybe I just oughta take it out of your hide."

Fischer swallows nervously.

"Wade," Cort's voice is a warning.

Fischer swallows again, gathering his nerve. “I don’t know what your intentions are, but my father will pay up to 20,000 in ransom.” They’ve had threats before. This doesn’t have to get messy.

Cort whistles, impressed, but Wade just leans back. “What about 20,001?” He suggests. “He won’t pay that much for you to be returned in good condition?”

Fischer licks his lips and this time he sees Wade follow the path of his tongue. “You’ll have to take that up with him.”

“Oh, I will.” Wade assures him. “For now,” he pulls off his jacket and tosses it at Cort who catches it automatically. “I’m gonna go get washed up.” He rolls his sleeves up past his elbows and heads out to the well.

Cort watches him through the window, just shaking his head. Wade draws the bucket up and starts washing.

“Why’s he doing this?” Fischer demands.

“You were there.” Cort sighs. “People are less inclined to shoot you when you have a good hostage.”

Fischer snorts derisively. “Is that what he thinks I am? A good hostage?” He’s never been so insulted.

“I’ve seen worse.” Cort says softly.

Fischer glances at him and Cort drops his gaze.

“You two are related or something?” They’re both good looking in a rough sort of way, but this isn’t the time to be thinking about that.

“Wade’s a distant cousin, on my mother’s side. We met up over a year ago.” Cort goes silent, and then goes to pour himself more coffee.

“So what, you rob banks together?”

“Something like that.” Cort’s not talking about this with some stuck-up Easterner. He’s got enough doubts about what they do.

 *  *  *

Fischer struggles to sit up, finally managing to do so without falling flat on his face. He looks around, surveying his surroundings. He seems to be in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere. There are three windows, through which he can see deep fir trees. Beyond the tree tops he can see the sun setting on the horizon. There’s a large bed in an opposite corner and a ladder leading up to the loft. Woodstove, table, coffeepot, woodpile stacked along the wall. It’s bare, simple enough.

God, Fischer hates it out here. He wants to go back to New York, and that was before he got kidnapped. New York, where people are civilized and he doesn’t get grabbed and thrown over the back of a horse.

“Excuse me.” He clears his throat. ”May I have a drink of water?”

The younger outlaw, Cort, the one with soft eyes and almost gentle look around his mouth, looks up at his words. Silently, he fetches a wooden cup and fills it from the bucket, bringing it over to Fischer.

“It’d be easier if you untied my hands.” It’s true.

But Cort just looks at him. “Let me tell you something. People look at Wade and me, and they think he’s the tough one. He’s killed more men than you have fingers and toes, and he sleeps just fine. And then they look me, and after dealing with a man like Ben Wade, they think I’m soft.” He leans in, pressing the cup to Fischer’s lips, letting him drink.

“People,” Cort clarifies, in case Fischer missed the point, “Are stupid.”

He takes the cup away and goes back to brooding over his coffee.

 _Ben Wade_. Fischer repeats to himself. Cort said his name like it’s supposed to mean something. It sounds vaguely familiar, but Fischer can’t place it. it’s hardly the sort of man he associates with.

Fischer sighs and leans his head back. They’ll send a ransom note to his father, and his father will complain, but he’ll pay it and this whole inconvenient matter will be done. He tries not to think about the way Wade looked at him earlier.

There’s no way he can know of Fischer’s personal proclivities. He’s merely being the loutish sort of character the outlaw aspires always are.

*  *  *

Cort drinks his coffee, and tries not to watch the man in the corner. But his mere presence makes Cort jumpy as hell. He doesn’t want to deal with this, and he’d hoped…well, never mind.

Wade comes back in, freshly scrubbed. “There, that's better.” He eyes Cort a minute before going to the stove to reheat the coffee. “What’s for supper, coz?”

“Fish.” Cort says .

“Aww, did you go fishing?” He reaches over to ruffle Cort’s hair playfully and Cort knocks his hand away.

"Some of us were working, yes.”

Wade’s eyebrows go up. “Sorry, if you don’t think that bank jobs are working, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Cort just sighs.

*  *  *

Wade watches Cort clean the fish as he drinks his coffee. “Tomorrow I’m going into Benson to send a ransom note. Anything you want from town?”

“More coffee.” Cort says.

“Will do.”

*  *  *

Fish and beans for supper and then Wade gets _that_ look in his eyes, the look Cort would be more than happy to indulge usually. But tonight there’s Fischer to consider.

Wade’s hand slides up his thigh. “Come on, coz.”

“What about him?” Cort jerks his head at Fischer.

“Let him watch.” Wade cups the back of his hand, pulling him down for a slow warm-tongued kiss. It leave Cort’s toes tingling in his boots and from there it’s only a matter of time before Wade draws him down on the bed, tugging at his pants and easing them down over his thighs.

It’s hard to forget Fischer. Cort tries as Wade’s hand wanders down his ass.

But he can’t.

“No.” He feels obstinate, making yet another stand. He doesn’t blow Cort in front of the other outlaws and he’s not fucking him in front of a hostage.

“Fine.” Wade grabs his black bandana _from_ the side of the bed and goes over to Fischer to tie it over his eyes.

“Happy now?”

“Yeah.”

Wade eases his spit-slicked fingers into him. Cort rocks his ass against those fingers, stretching himself to take Ben’s cock. They've done this more times than he can count over the last year and every single time it feels so goddamn good.

“Now.” Ben slides into him, easy as spit, and this is why Cort’s riding with him. Not the only reason obviously. Wade is fair enough as a leader, always splits the take evenly between his men, but this is definitely one of the reasons. The blood relation ain’t nothing. It's not close enough to matter.

Wade’s hands slide over his ass, pulling him closer and Cort comes, bucking his hips and shooting over Cort’s belly.

“There.” Cort eases him off his cock and sits up. His body has that lazy, loose fluidity that comes after sex. He walks naked to the fire and pours more coffee, eying Fischer again.

Then he returns to bed and they sleep.

 *  *  *

Fischer spends the night in a state of perpetual tension. He has a pretty good idea what the outlaws were doing; he's not naive. The noises, the bed squeaking, those were enough to distract him, but that kiss? Fischer has never seen anything like that. It keeps coming back to him through the long hours of the night.

 *  *  *

In the morning Cort rises first and makes a fresh pot of coffee and a pot of oatmeal. Wade slumbers on, snoring slightly.

Cort lets Fischer up to relieve himself in the outhouse and then eat some oatmeal. Fischer hunches over the bowl in front of him when Wade finally rouses himself.

Fischer carefully doesn’t look at him as the outlaw walks naked to the door to inspect the day.

If he had his druthers, he wouldn’t want a man like ben Wade. The man’s too rough for his tastes. Cort’s not bad, if uneducated, but Fischer can imagine managing him easily enough in bed. Not Wade though. He can’t picture anyone managing Ben Wade anywhere.

*  *  *

Wade pulls his clothes on and drinks a cup of coffee before heading out. He doesn’t talk much in the mornings. That’s another thing Cort’s used to. All his cousin does is give him a nod and then he’s gone.

Fischer watches him go. “He’s not worried about getting caught?”

“Not particularly.” Cort sighs. He thinks Ben should be more careful; Ben never is.

 *  *  *

Cort leaves Fischer untied for the day. He's not too worried about Fischer running off. They're too high up in the hills for Fischer to successfully get away and fortunately Fischer's smart enough to realize that.

Cort goes fishing again down at the stream around mid-day, something to keep his mind off the situation. He can feel Fischer watching him from the cabin door.

*  *  *

When he returns to the cabin with a string of trout, Fischer's got a fresh pot of coffee brewed.

Cort leans in the doorway, watching him. “You’re pretty handy.” He observes.

Fischer turns. “Thought I couldn’t make coffee?”

“Stuck up little boy from back East? Yeah, something like that.”

Fischer shrugs. He pours two cups and hands one out to Cort. “Why do you ride with him?”

“Always comes back to Wade, doesn’t it?” Cort murmurs. He smiles slightly. “I’m taking a break from another gang. Wade’s easier to deal with. He’s…fair.”

“Fair.” Fischer’s not sure he believes that.

“For a bank robber.” Cort concedes, and surprisingly they both chuckle at that. Fischer can’t help noticing the way the lines crinkle pleasantly around his eyes when he laughs. Cort looks up and catches his gaze. For a moment they just stare at each other and then looks away. Cort’s face is flushed, like somehow he’d known exactly what Fischer was thinking.

“You and your cousin,” he begins, “he…”

“What about it?” Cort withdraws. He doesn’t want to hear any sort of judgment from this man.

“Nothing.” Fischer says. “Just that it sounded like you were having a good time.”

“Well good, cause I was.”  Cort’s face heats up again at the thought of Fischer listening to them.

“You do that just with Wade?” Fischer asks idly. Not sure what he’s seeking to find. It’s like when this is done he’s going to strike up any kind of anything with this man. He’s just curious. That’s what he is. Just plain curious.

“With whomever I like.” Cort says flatly. “Wade and me, we just tend to get along easier.” He shifts awkwardly. “There’s a look he gives you that just...”

“I can imagine.” Fisher murmurs.

“What about you?” Cort asks. “You got anyone you…enjoy yourself with?”

“Not at the moment.” Fischer says stiffly.

“Girl…or boy.” Cort asks and Fischer blushes.

Then, what can it hurt? “I was seeing a young gentleman in New York.”

“And?”

“And then my father wanted me to come out here and learn the family business.”

“Ah.”

Fischer grimaces. He’s just told more of himself to this thief than he's told anyone else, well, ever. He has no idea what to do with that so he sticks to drinking his coffee.

 *  *  *

It's late afternoon before Wade finally returns. He gives his horse a rubdown and stables him before coming into the cabin. Fortunately Cort's got fresh coffee waiting.

“What have you two been doing all day?” Wade looks up from the stove in time to see the worried glance Fischer shoots Cort.

“Something I should know about, Cort?”

“No,” Cort says, and Wade’s satisfied with this for now.

*  *  *

Cort fries eggs and fish for dinner, this time preparing a plate for Fischer as well. Afterwards he leaves the dishes to soak and playes poker with Wade until the fire starts dying down. Fischer sits on the cot, and watches them in silence.

Cort goes to stoke the fire and Wade comes up behind him, dropping a kiss on his neck.

"Want me to blindfold him again?"

"Naw, leave him." Cort doesn't think about why he's okay with that tonight.

*  *  *

For some reason even though Wade is being more than attentive, Cort just can't focus.

“Hey,” Wade glances up from between Cort's legs. “Am I boring you?”

“Hardly.” Cort shoots a pointed look at his erect cock, but Wade just glances over at Fischer who drops his gaze, immediately. Wade gets up.

“Wade, what,”

Wade goes over to Fischer and inspects him. He smirks at Fischer’s state of arousal, leaning down to grop him with a brazen hand.

“Get your hands off me.” Fischer struggles, but Wade just tightens his grip and he subsides.

“You like watching my cousin?” Wade whispers.

“Lay off, Wade.” Cort sits up in bed.

“What, you don’t want him to join us?” Wade pulls Fischer up, pushing him over to the bed.

“Just tell me you haven’t been thinking of this ever since I brought him back.” He pushes Fischer down on the bed on his knees.

Cort flushes harder. “What I thought of has nothing to do with,”

“Shh,” Wade just shushes him, focusing on Fischer. “You want him?” He nods at Cort and Fischer’s first instinct is to deny it, but Cort’s all flushed, half-turned away from his cousin’s statement as if he expects Fischer to deny it.

Fischer licks his lips. “So?”

Cort’s head snaps up, staring at him.

“Good.” Wade grins. “Only thing is, if you want him, you get me too.” He leans in intimate, intimidating, waiting to see what Fischer will say.

 Fischer just squares his shoulders. “I suppose that can be managed.”

Wade laughs, genuine amusement. “Go on then.”

He leans back at the foot of the bed, waiting. Wade’s making this a show, so Fischer decides to deal with it by ignoring him and focusing on Cort. Cort who still looks stunned as Fischer moves off the bed to undress slowly in front of him. The disposal of Fischer's shirt reveals pale limbs, a slenderly muscled build and Cort holds his breath as Fischer slowly steps out of his trousers then underclothes.

Wade’s bigger, more muscular, never letting Cort forget that he’s larger and stronger. But Fischer’s all lithe elegance and refined features. _Even his cock looks refined,_ Cort thinks, eyeing it. Fischer steps closer to the bed and Cort leans up before he knows what he’s doing. Fischer kisses him slowly, questioningly, testing this out.

Cort responds eagerly and Fischer has a hand in his hair, holding him there as they kiss, until finally he pushes Cort back on the bed, settling between his thighs. Cort lies there on his back, gazing up at him, and suddenly it’s not so hard for Fischer to imagine that he picked the man up in a bar somewhere, maybe Austin, after a business trip. He imagines it easily, imagines meeting Cort’s eyes over the bar, saying good day, and then taking him upstairs to his hotel room, watching Cort wash off the dust of the trail before pushing him down on the bed. In the end they'd wind up in the same place as now.

Cort inhales softly and Fischer’s attention is drawn back to the present. Cort’s hard in his drawers and Fischer slips a hand down to cup him. Cort hisses, fighting the instinct to buck up into that hand. He doesn't want to look that eager, but Fischer gives him a long stroke just as he feels a hand reaching out to give his ass a good firm squeeze. Ah yes, Fischer glances over his shoulder at Wade who just looks back at him.

“Feeling neglected?” Fischer asks archly.

“Just reminding you that there are three of us in this bed.” Wade grins at him slow and lazy and now Fischer knows what Cort means by _that look_ when he does that.

“How could one forget?” Fischer murmurs. He turns back to Cort and pulls his underclothes down, letting his cock bob upward. Fischer gives him a long considering look and takes Cort easy as you please in his mouth. Wade’s hand is still on his ass, half groping, sliding down the cleft of his ass. Fischer half-chokes as Wade's fingers brush over his hole. He pauses to adjust the angle, then draws off again to lick his way up Cort’s shaft. Wade’s fingers leave him for a moment, then return damped with spit. Fischer shivers as they brush over him more pervasively, then the tip of Wade's forefinger inches inside. It’s been a while since he’s trusted anyone to do this and trust is hardly the motivating factor here. Wade crooks his finger teasingly and Fischer moans around Cort’s cock.

Cort shudders. He knows what Wade is doing, teasing Fischer, trying to get a rise out of him, but he almost doesn’t care if this is the sort of result it produces. Fischer’s tongue curls around him, dragging a ragged spike of pleasure out of Cort's body. He spreads his legs a little wider as Fischer’s hands caress their way down his thighs.

Wade’s finger-fucking Fischer lazily, watching the look on Cort’s face. For all he knows his cousin, Cort’s still a conundrum, not really suited for the life of the outlaw. Sometime, sooner or later, he’s gonna leave and Wade’s just trying to make the most of their time together while he can.

He adds another finger, pushing past the tight ring of muscle inside. Fischer presses back against his fingers, an invitation if ever Wade saw one, but Cort first.

He leans over Fischer, twisting his fingers and letting him moan before he says. “He’s ready for you, coz.”

Cort’s eyes are dark with desire, struggling to focus on Wade's words. “What?”

Wade strokes down Fischer’s spine. “Got him all nice and stretched for you.”

Cort licks his lips and gazes at Fischer. Impulsively Fischer leans down to kiss him again, savoring the way Cort whimpers into his mouth.

“Come on.”

Cort’s kissing him, his hands settling on Fischer’s hips as Fischer eases slowly down on Cort’s cock. Wade busies himself with kissing along Fischer’s spine, before wrapping a hand around his cock.

Fuck, his hands, Fischer leans back, turning his head to look at Wade. Wade just grasps his jaw, kissing him slow and sure.

Fischer lets that tongue in, lets the man’s hand take control of his cock. He turns his attention back at Cort whose hips are moving energetically. Fischer pulls away from Wade and leans down to suck at Cort’s nipple.

“Oh, _jesus_.” Cort’s fingers dig into Fischer's ass and his hips speed up. He’s got one hand on the back of Fischer’s neck, seeking his mouth, kissing him like crazy.

Meanwhile Wade’s fingers tease along Fischer’s hole, stretched open by Cort’s cock, light feathery strokes until Fischer can't take it. He clenches hot around Cort and comes across his chest.

Cort sucks at his lower lip, jolting upward as he comes, filling Fischer with everything he’s got. Fischer rides him out until Cort’s hips finally still and then eases off him, stretching out alongside Cort on the bed.

“Fuck. You’re good.” Cort murmurs.

Fischer leans over and kisses him almost affectionately. Yes, he would have taken Cort upstairs if he had met him in that hotel. He would have kept him in bed forever. Cort brushes his hair back from his sweaty brow. He gazes at Fischer for a long time, studying the lines of his face.

*  *  *

Wade gets up to check the fire, and then he pours himself a whiskey. He drinks it, surveying the situation before returning to the bed. Cort just grins at him and Fischer's too busy looking at Cort.

But then Wade’s hands eases over his ass.

“My turn.”

Fischer looks up at him. “Is that right?”

“Yeah.” Wade pulls him by the hips, pushing Fischer forward until his cock dangles over Cort’s mouth. “Go on.”

Cort obliges and Wade leans in, pressing up agaist Fischer's back, teasing his cock along the crease of Fischer’s ass. “Look at you,” he murmurs, “All slicked open with his mess, just begging for it.”

Fischer opens his mouth to object, but then Wade slides into him embarrassingly easy. His teeth graze along Fischer’s neck, bumping his ass lazily, as he watches Fischer’s cock sliding in and out of Cort’s mouth.

“How’s he feel?”

“Good.” The sensations are almost too much for Fischer His cock’s still too sensitive and Wade’s cock feels so sleek inside him. Wade pulls almost all the way out and then pushes back inside, pleased with the feel of it. Fischer’s stretched just enough and Cort certainly left enough slick in him.

Wade bites along Fischer's shoulder, loving the way Fischer shudders under him. He looks over Fischer’s shoulder to gaze at his cousin, loving the way Cort looks like this too. This is something he could never share between Cort and another member of his band, say, Charlie Prince for example. Charlie’s too jealous of Cort, too eager to cause trouble. But Robert Fischer? Right man, right bank job, at the right moment.

Wade thrusts harder, rubbing across that spot that makes all men moan. Fischer moans like all the rest. If it sounds a little sweeter to Wade's ears well, that's no account to worry over. He tugs Fischer's head back by the hair, sinking his teeth into his neck.

Fischer clenches hard around his cock, and Wade licks over the fresh bite mark and does it again. He comes just like that, teeth sharp and balls deep in Robert Fischer.

Fischer's orgasm is dragged out of him at last, and Cort swallows it down. Fischer's cock slips out of his mouth almost regretfully.

Wade pulls out and lets Fischer slump down on the bed. He doesn't bother tying him up. If the man moves in the middle of the night, they'll notice. He stretches out on the other side of Fischer, smiling at Cort's sleepy sated expression.

"Goodnight, Cort."

"Night, Ben." Cort yawns and rolls over on his side. Fischer inches a mite closer to him, and Cort just smiles at him.

Wade rolls over on his back. Cort's like him in some ways, and yet not enough. Sooner or later he'll wanna go do something else with his life. Wade can't blame him. As for himself, this is the only path he’s ridden upon. He’ll ride it to the day he dies.

He gets out of bed and blows out the lamp, letting comfortable darkness fall over the room. Wade settles back into bed, listening to their mingled breathing. He rests his arm behind his head and closes his eyes, letting their natural rhythm lull him to sleep.

*  *  *

This time Fischer wakes first. Inexplicably, there's warm skin touching him no matter which way he turns. He opens his eyes to see Ben Wade gazing at him.

“Get dressed and I’ll take you into town. “ Wade’s hand rests on his hip for a moment, and then moves away.

*  *  *

Fischer gives in and kisses Cort goodbye at the cabin door. There’s not a lot to say. It’s one of those things. Cort just nods at him, watching as Wade mounts and offers a hand to Fischer. He stands there in the doorway of the cabin until the two figures on horseback are out of sight.

*  *  *

Wade keeps Fischer blindfolded for most of the journey, occasionally reaching back to touch his cheek, just to see Fischer twitch.

When they're two miles outside of Wilcox, Wade draws the horse to a stop, and pulls off the blindfold.

Fischer blinks at him. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s only two miles into town.” Wade leans over to untie his hands. “You can walk it.”

Fischer stares at him in confusion. “What about the money?”

Wade laughs. “I don’t need it.”

Fischer’s still confused, so Wade leans over and kisses his confused mouth. “Go on.”

Fischer dismounts awkwardly and looks up at him. "But why bother," he doesn't even know what he's asking.

Wade just looks at him. “See you around, junior.”

He tips his hat to Fischer then wheels his horse around and rides off. Fischer stands there, watching him go. Then he turns and heads into town.

 *  *  *

Cort's sitting in the doorway of the cabin when he returns, hands clasped around a cup of coffee.

 Wade ties up his horse and gets his own coffee before taking a seat next to him.

"He make it back okay?" Cort asks.

"Yeah." Wade glances at him. “I’m meeting up with the band tomorrow. We have another job lined up. You coming?”

Cort shakes his head and Wade's heart sinks a little, even if he won't admit it. “No, not this time…I think I’ll head on down to Mexico.”

Wade just nods at him, and bumps his shoulder against Cort's. They finish their coffee before they head inside.

*  *  *

The next day they part ways at the end of the mountain trail.

"Well," Wade leans over to pull Cort into an embrace. "Come find me if you ever get bored.”

Cort hugs him hard. “You come down to Mexico when you get tired of running.”

Wade just laughs. “Ain’t happened yet.” He grins at Cort and rides off, heading towards Bisbee. The future is about to start; the train he’s waiting for, even if he doesn't know it yet, is already curving around the track.


End file.
